


Our Own Little Patch Of Hell Baby

by KissMyAssButt67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Hell, Hell Hounds, KnightofHell!Dean, M/M, Mentions of Self Harm(if you squint), housewife!cas, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMyAssButt67/pseuds/KissMyAssButt67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a demon, knight of Hell. Castiel is human and Sam is the Hell Hound Trailer. Castiel is actually adapting quite well to humanity, Dean is sort of trying to behave but doesn't really do a very good job. I don't know. It's domesticated twisted Winchesterness!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Own Little Patch Of Hell Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even...I'm not going to even try to defend myself. I don't know what this is, but it is so yeah. Hey Guys!

Castiel stood in Dean’s empty bedroom. It smelt wrong, felt wrong, looked wrong. Everything in this room screamed _I am a demon, fear me now._ Castiel just stood there, frozen in time like he had been for so long before Dean. He just looked around with dead blue eyes, before sitting with legs crossed and arms stiffly by his sides. It was a peaceful position, if Crowley had taught Dean anything about angels Dean would at least know Castiel meant no harm. He wasn’t sure whether that would affect Dean too much.

An angel, Dinial, had come in search for Castiel and without remorse or reason Dean had stabbed her. When he cleaned off his blade he smiled a razor blade like smile, before turning back to cleaning his blade. Castiel had simply sat there. He should feel enraged, he should want to smite Dean, he should be so wrathful but he felt numb. He didn’t care anymore; he just wanted to give up.

So when even instinct told him to flee, put as much distance between him and the knight of Hell he stayed with Dean. Sam wasn’t exactly happy with Dean either, but both knew he would never hurt Dean so he stayed too. He got to train Dean’s hell hounds, a new defence system for the bunker, and seemed quite happy enough with that. Dean swore Sam was feeding them treats, he found crumbs lying about. Sam just grinned boyishly at him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Dean.” He lied easily as he walked off, an invisible hound following him. Castiel generally cooked and cleaned, since somebody in the bunker had too. If the two Winchester’s had their way they would _still_ be living off of fast food and would die at the age of fifty. Castiel liked to cook a variety anyway, a mix of salads and meat. Dean grumbled about the salad but a stern look from Castiel that seemed to send the message of ‘I am an angel, I will smite you, you assbutt, eat my fucking salad.’ It was the best salad the demon had ever eaten.

Sometimes Dean came home in blood, laughing wickedly, still high on the blood lust. Castiel was there for him, he would clean the blood off, he would take Dean’s mean words and wait too cry until later that night. He would accept Dean’s hits, lean into them even. Dean never said sorry the next day but he would eat his fruit and vegetables without complaint, would try to be nice (as nice as a demon could anyway) he would tell Crowley to stay away from Castiel, he would kill any demon or angel who came near _his_ Cas (Castiel wasn’t sure when every creature on Earth that dared to even think of Cas became Dean’s prey, it just happened) and Castiel would await Dean’s next melt down.

It was a good day today; Castiel was in the kitchen cooking. He was cooking pie as a treat for Dean; he had been good for about two weeks. No massacres, only hunting monsters and the truly sinful humans that even Castiel would want to kill (but never would). The demons were being cautious around the knight though, being good meant he was extra touchy. Not one demon dared even think Castiel’s name, let alone come to the bunker to annoy the angel. Castiel wasn’t quite so cautious, either way Dean would come to him to break him even further then he already was. It didn’t matter what he did. He whistled a pop tune tune as he shook his hips to the beat; he believed it was ‘mama I’m in love with a criminal.’ Dean came in, a grin plastered across his face. His eyes flashed black, but Castiel was dutifully ignoring that little fact. Dean, for once, came to the kitchen to inspect Castiel’s work. “Hey there” Dean spoke, calmly enough but Castiel knew well enough that his tone could often be deceiving. “Apple pie, for you” Castiel informed his demonic friend. He tried to push Dean away so he could bend over to pull the pie out of the oven.

Dean took a sharp intake of breath. Beautiful, reliable Castiel, his angel was always there when Dean needed a pick me up. The hunt had gone terribly, so Dean had planned to have a little… _fun_ with his angel. Then he came home to find his beautiful little fallen angel cooking pie for him. Perhaps he had been too harsh on his angel, Castiel definitely behaved. Dean rubbed his hand down Castiel’s back and the bent over man shivered, Dean smirked. Castiel stood up, blowing on the hot pie. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, “I’m going to keep you in my arms forever angel, I’m _never_ going to let you go” Dean wasn’t sure whether it was threat or a promise. Castiel seemed to melt in his arms, perhaps it was a promise. “Just me?” he whispered, almost brokenly and Dean flinched. Perhaps he had flaunted his…flirting skills since he became a demon and dropped all of his depression and self-loathing, it was perfectly reasonable for Castiel to be worried. “Just you angel, just you, me, Sammy, Azia and your pies for the rest of forever” Castiel chuckled, Dean loved his pies. Castiel was actually quite a good baker.

Azia was Dean’s favourite Hell Hound, mainly because the undead dog was protective of Cas and Sam. He had ripped an angel in two when said angel dared called Castiel a whore for a demon. Castiel had raised an eyebrow, before turning back to go into the kitchen. He pretended he didn’t care what his so called family thought. Dean had massacred a garrison in retaliation.

That night Dean called Castiel to his room, rather loudly. Castiel had taken a deep breath; Dean was obviously angrily and felt a need to hurt somebody. He pulled his sleeves down hiding the scars that only made Dean angrier, coughed to clear his throat and walked down the hall. He could almost feel Sam’s anxiety, his friend had tried to defend him, begged him to leave, he could handle Dean but Castiel couldn’t, Dean was all he had left anymore anyway. He opened the door almost shyly and stepped in, his head held high. That head would be hung low the following day, shame and self-loathing filling his gut until he got Dean’s approval again. “Hello Dean” he greeted his friend. Green eyes met blue and Castiel was almost thrown back, Dean never showed his green eyes anymore. He liked to remind both humans (Cas was almost human anyway) that he was a cruel soulless guiltless demon who didn’t care who he hurt. Dean was slouched topless in his bed, his back leaning slightly against his bed. He smirked at his friend, “Come; sit with me” Castiel recalled a saying Sam would often mutter when Dean called Castiel during the day, ‘come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.’ Castiel walked over to Dean with an emotionless mask. Dean pulled him down into his lap, like he was a child who needed a very important talk. Dean rubbed his back, “You know Cas, I still feel” Dean informed his angel. Castiel tilted his head, something he had been doing more rarely, “I remember how I felt about you. I loved you so fucking much Cas, and then you just kept fucking up” Castiel ducked his head. “I just wanted to kiss you, push you to your knees, keep you to myself because you seemed to be falling further and further and I couldn’t pull you back up. You made deals with Crowley, killed Samandriel, turned your back on me so many times” Castiel didn’t answer Dean. “And then I became a demon, I had a guilty pleasure in the pain in your eyes little one, you looked so hurt. You knew even when I became a monster, you wouldn’t leave. Even if I wanted to torture you, kill you, you wouldn’t leave. I see that now, you’re not going to leave are you, pet?” Castiel shook his head. He felt disgusted in himself. Dean must be laughing inside, he was once a being that had struck fear into Dean and here he was on Dean’s lap like some petulant child. Dean raised his hand to rest in Castiel’s hair, turning the angel so his whole body was now facing Dean. He tried to look anywhere but those green eyes, because green meant Dean and this was not Dean. “Look at me” Dean growled, gripping his chin sharply. “I am all you have now Castiel. The only one who gets to touch you, hurt you, heal you. Your death is mine to give, your life is mine to mould and take. You belong to me now Cas” Castiel nodded, because it was true. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to argue about it, he was Dean’s and he always would be. There was no way to cure him, no way to fix him. It was done, this was his life now. “Of course Dean, whatever you want” there was no bitterness to his tone this time, not like there had been when there had been civil war in Heaven. Dean nodded; he pulled Castiel into his arms. The angel froze up, what did Dean want? “Don’t worry angel, you’re going to beg me to touch you for a long time before I actually do” Dean promised with a dark chuckle. Dean pulled Castiel tighter in his arms, rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. Castiel would be his, his alone. He would never let Castiel go and he would kill anyone who got in his way, even Sam if it came to it. Castiel was far too comfortable with the other Winchester… “I love you Dean” Castiel mumbled, trying to bury himself deeper in Dean’s chest. Perhaps Sam _could_ live, for now. He’d see how things went. “I love you too Cas” and Castiel dozed off and the demon stroked his hair, he would _never_ let his fallen angel go. Not even death could take his angel, not even _God_.


End file.
